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AND OTHER PO^■^v^ 




•,UAM,"WILBERFORCE NEWTOM 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap. Copyright No. 

Shelf..v^-(f ? /^ 

i^r 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



THK 



Voice of St. John 



AND OTHER POEMS 



X 



WM. WILBERFORCE NEWTON 

AUTHOR OF "PHILIP MACGREGOR," "PRIEST AND 
MAN," ETC. 






NEW YORK 
A. D. F. RANDOLPH COMPANY 

91 AND 93 FIFTH AVENUE 



Scene : — St. John at Ephesus, on the last Easter- 
day of his life, gathers the members of the church 
together, by the riverside, and tells his converts 
once more, the story of the first Easter-day. 

" Little children .... it is the last time." 

X John u. x8 



PREFACE. 



«i -^N the convent of Drontheim 
Alone in her chamber 
Knelt Astrid the Abbess, 
At midnight, adoring. 
Beseeching, entreating 
The Virgin and Mother. 

'• She heard in the silence 
The voice of one speaking 
Without in the darkness, 
In gusts of the night-wind, 
Now louder, now nearer, 
Now lost in the distance. 

The voice of a stranger 
It seemed as she listened. 
Of some one who answered. 
Beseeching, imploring, 
A cry from afar off 
She could not distinguish. 



PREFACE. 

The voice of Saint John, 
The beloved disciple, 
Who wandered and waited 
The Master's appearance. 
Alone ia the darknetss, 
Unsneltered and friendless." 

H. W. LONCPKLLOW. 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 



/^^ATHER round me, little children, for my 
^^^ days are ebbing fast, 
And your aged friend and father goeth to his 
home at last. 

Soon the oldest of Apostles, white-haired, worn, 

and craving rest. 
Called by God, must join his brethren, saints and 

martyrs, saved and blest. 

Here, beside the swift Meander, where our holy 

church has stood, 
Saints of Ephesus, I bid you hold the faith and 

seek the good. 

On this happy Easter morning, you have sung 
your hymns of praise, 

And my soul is filled with memories of those far- 
off, wondrous days, 

9 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

When wc hurried in the morning, hope befogged 

with clouds of gloom ; 
Hoping much, but fearing most — the silence of 

the sullen tomb. 

Little children ! sure, 1 feel it — 'tis the last time 

my poor breath 
Shall relate the Easter story — how our Lord has 

conquered death. 

Gather round me, then, and listen while I live the 

past once more, 
And recount the golden hours of that Easter-day 

of yore. 



IL 

Gray and cold was the dawn, and darkness hung 

long on the twilight, 
When M;iry, the loved one forgiven, from whom 

had departed tlio devils, 
Limping and halt as she was, for the demons had 

troubled her sorely, 
Tjipped at the lattice-door of the house of my 

mother, where Mary, 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

The sister of Mary, the Virgin and wife of Clopas 
were waiting. 

These were the three who had stood by the blood- 
dripping cross of the Saviour, 

Theirs were the hands that received the body of 
Jesus, when Joseph 

Ascending the terrible cross, with Nicodemus, the 
ruler. 

Gently lowered the sheet, and folded the arms of 
the victim. 

Bearing the agonized mother away from the sight 

of the crosses, 
Giving my arm to the sufferer, pierced with the 

sword of her sorrows. 
Surely fulfilling the word which Simeon spake in 

the temple. 
Back from this vision of death, away from the 

shouts of the soldiers, 
Wearied and stricken and worn, I was sleeping the 

sleep of the troubled, 
Guarding the home of our loved one, of Mary, the 

mother of Jesus, 

Hard by the narrow street, that led up to the for 

tress of Herod. 

II 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN, 

Little knew I of the plan of my mother, that early 
by daybreak 

The women should go to the tomb, to wait for the 
promised deliverance. 

'Twas Salome, my mother, you know, Zebedee's 
wife of Gennesaret, 

Who came to the master of old, and asked for a 
place in the kingdom. 

For those who stood nearest her heart, as she gave 
up her all to the Master, 

Leaving her home in the north, and her husband, 
the fisherman sailor; 

'Twas Salome, my mother, I say, who prepared for 
this early adventure, 

First at the tomb in the garden, last upon Calva- 
ry's hill-top. 

Busy were they in the work of preparing the spike- 
nard and ointment, 

Hoping and fearing by turns and ready for joy or 
for sorrow. 

Thus in the dark of the morning, before the first 
red of the sunrise, 

Wrapping their mantles about them, their hurrying 
feet sought the Garden. 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 



III. 

But hark ! Was it thunder they heard 
Rumbling in darkness so still ? 
Stars in the sky seemed to fall, 
Soldiers affrighted, dismayed, 
Fled from the tomb, and like sheep 
Struck by the fiery bolts 
Of an eastern simoon in the sands 
Of the desert, were fleeing away, 
Trembling, the sisters advanced, 
Where a luminous cloud seemed to rest 
In the rocky recess of the tomb. 
Then came the vision of light ! 
Angels were guarding the place ! 
The stone on the pathway was rolled, 
The sepulchre empty and bright, 
Gave the first note of that joy 
Which to Easter must always belong, 
Telling them Christ was alive ! 
Then in the triumph of bliss, 
Quick in her womanly thought, 
Mary, the Magdalene, fled, 
Leaving her comrades behind, 

n 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

To feast on the fulness of faith 
Changed to the richness of sight, 
While the red sun in the heavens 
Poured forth the splendors of day ! 
Never had sunrise till then 
Meant sucli a flood of bright hopes ; 
Never had light till this morn 
Been such a message from God : 
Never had darkness and fear 
Lurking within the cold tomb 
Been driven away, until now. 

It was then I heard hurrying feet, 

And the latch of the door opened wide, 

At the home of the mother of Christ, 

Where Simon had come from his tears, 

Humbled and saddened and wan. 

'Twas the Magdalene. Ere she could speak, 

In her face that was lighted with joy, 

The message of triumph I read, 

As she clasped her pale hands and exclaimed '. 



14 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 



IV. 

The Master has surely arisen ! 

Come, visit the spot where He lay. 
The keepers have fled, and an angel has said, 

" Christ is risen, is risen to-day." 

We have been to the tomb very early. 
With ointment and spikenard, for fear 

Our hopes should deceive us, but, brothers, be- 
lieve us, 
The angels have dried every tear. 

It was dark when we came to the garden. 
And we felt for the latch, as the gray 

Seemed to lighten, our footsteps to brighten 
And herald this wonderful day. 

Yet, perchance it is only a vision. 

Perchance I am dreaming or mad, 
But they've taken away our dear Lord where He 
lay, 
Run quickly ! Behold, and be glad ! 
15 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 



V. 

Starting away like ships that feel the breeze on the 

canvas, 
Simon and I in the zeal which is born in the 

moment of triumph ; 
Ran through the city's street, till we came to the 

gate of the Garden : 
First at the tomb was I, while Peter came panting 

behind me, 
Weary and worn as he was, from the tears of his 

bitter sorrow. 
Alone we stood at the grave which was silent and 

robbed of its inmate ; 
No vision to us was vouchsafed, and the women 

had gone to the city. 
The guard from the fortress had fled, to carry the 

story to Pilate. 
"Where were the angels," we asked, " and how 

should we know what the truth was ? " 
For the sun was climbing the heavens and mystery 

still was our portion. 

'Twas then in our utter amaze, that the Magdalene 

following behind us, 
l6 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

Came to the open tomb, and taking her resolute 

station, 
Said she would watch o'er the grave till she saw a 

new vision of angels : 
Firm in her faith was she, that Jesus was surely 

arisen, 
And trusting her future to God, she uttered this 

song, in her rapture : 



VI. 

I shall behold His face 
And triumph in His love, 

I yet shall see His love for me, 
God's loving care above. 

I may not see His ways, 
Or know His secret plan, 

Yet I can wait His kingly state 
And feel His love for man. 

I can not scan God's will. 

I linger here in faith. 
Yet I shall see His love to me. 

I'll trust Him unto death. 
17 



THE VOICE OF ST JOHN. 

I shall behold His face, 
His loving form shall see. 

It must be nigh ; I can but sigh, 
Bring me, my Lord, to Thee ! 



VII. 

It was then when we hkd departed, and wended 
our way to the city, 

Seeking the other apostles, to tell them these won- 
derful rumors, 

That Mary, alone in the Garden, beholding a form 
drawing near her. 

Said to the vineyard's watch (supposing the gar- 
dener was coming), 

" If thou hast borne Him hence, oh, tell me where 
thou hast laid Him, 

And I will take Him away, if death is the end of 
my vision. 

But if He is risen indeed — " Then beholding the 
face of the stranger. 

To the earth, as one dead, she fell; while Jesus 

said to her — " Mary ! " 
i8 



THE KOICE OF ST. JOHN. 



VIII. 

" Rabboni, my Master," she cried, 
'• Thy feet, O my God, let me clasp ! 
Am I treading the pavement above 
Where freedom is given from doubt ? 
Am I lifted to light that is bliss ? 
Has heaven come down upon earth 
Since Christ over death has the power? ' 
Then Jesus to Mary replied; 
Her face in her mantle shut in, 
As though she were blinded with light 
" Touch me not yet, O my child, 
Not yet to my Father in heaven 
Bearing the sheaves from the field. 
Bringing the first-fruits of life. 
Have I in triumph gone up. 
But go to my brethren and say. 
Back to our Father and God 
Soon I ascend ; that in joy 
In the kingdom that lieth beyond, 
We for all ages may be 
Brethren, united in life, 
Never by sorrow undone ! " 
19 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

IX. 

Gone in a moment was Christ, and the whispering 
breath of the west wind 

Fanned the penitent's face on the spot where her 
Lord had been standing : 

Leaving the Garden again, she encountered Salome 
and Mary 

Just by the brook, in the way that leads up to the 
fish-pond of Herod : 

Warm was their loving embrace while the Magda- 
lene sang in her gladness : 



Hail to the brightness which heralds His glory! 

Hail to the coming of Christ among men ! 
Back from the tomb He has come, and the story 

Is told us by angels again and again ! 

Death is uncrowned, since the Saviour of mortals 
The grave and destruction has robbed of theii 
gloom : 

Victory shines out from heaven's opened portals, 
Jesus has conquered the power of the tomb. 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

Christ is arisen! O sisters, with gladness, 

Bright shines this Easter mom, bringing Hira 
near, 

Lovingly owning Him, banishing sadness, 
Hope springs eternal o'er darkness and fear. 



XL 

It was then in the court of the temple, the priests 

and the rulers were plotting. 
How they might silence the tale brought back by 

the terrified soldiers : 
" They have stolen His body away ; say this to 

the wondering people." 
Such was the word of the rulers, such was their 

meaning of Easter. 

Easter noon was it now, when a party of loving 

disciples. 
Women, with spices prepared, to lay at the tomb 

of the prophet, 
From Galilee came, and inquired the way to the 

garden of Joseph. 
Thus they drew near to the cavern, so fern-crowned 

and buried in mosses. 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

Peering within at the phice where they thought 

they should see the Lord's body. 
While they were earnestly gazing, amazed to find 

nothing but grave-clothes, 
A luminous flame seemed to shine, and lo, the 

bright forms of two angels 
Told them that Christ was alive, as they chanted 

this song in sweet music : 

XII. 

Awake ! Awake ! Glad voices make. 

Sing praise to Christ the Lord, 

The living Word, 

In earth and heaven 

Eternally adored ! 

For thankful songs 

From hearts and tongues 

To Christ our King is given 

From hearts of men 

Set free again 

And happy saints in heaven. 

*Tis Easter morn, new f.iith is born, 

The day of days the best. 
aa 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

Sing praise to God ! 
Sing out abroad, 
With joy and hope possessed I 
For now the Prince 
Of Peace hath fought. 
And triumphed o'er the grave, 
With holy arm, 
And strong right hand. 
Omnipotent to save- 
No shadows now, our spirits bow 
Our souls are raised on high, 
The Son of man 
In God's own plan 
Has come to earth to die- 
No. doubts or fear 
Could hold Him here 
Detained by mortal breath. 
For now He lives 
And freely gives 
Redemption over death ! 



as 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 



XIII. 

Frightened, and awe-struck, and still, the women 

from Galilee pondered 
What this strange vision should mean, ere it faded 

away into sunlight. 
Soon to their wondering souls there was joined the 

glad spirit of Mary, 
Who back from the vineyard returned when Jesus 

had vanished before her. 
** Come, let us seek the disciples, come, let us tell 

the glad tidings." 
Cheerfully thus to the group the Magdalene spoke, 

and then added : 
" Out of a garden man wandered, sin entering in 

by a woman : 
Back to an Eden restored let woman recover the 

doubting." 
Leading the way to the city, the strangers from 

Galilee followed, 
Close on the steps of their guide, as she knocked 

at the door-post of Simon — 
Simon the zealot, I mean, where, sitting within in 

the darkness, 

M 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

The scattered disciples were found engaged with 

these obstinate rumors. 
Gladly their story they told, but how could the 

brethren believe them ? 
How could it ever be true as Thomas exclaimed 

'mid these doubtings : 

XIV. 

Now is done our work of faith, 
Can it be that Christ o'er death 
Triumphs with His human breath? 

Let them freely say 
What they hope or what they fear ! 
Binding law both far and near 
Rules supreme o'er grief and cheer, 

Night is never day ! 

When the human body dies, 

When the soul from matter flies, 

When the form beloved, lies 

In the silent tomb, 

Who can call us back once nr.ore, 

From the strange, mysterious shore, 

Where the gathered souls of yore 

Live beyond earth's gloom ? 
25 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

Nay, my brethren, do not grieve. 
I can ne'er this tale believe. 
Reason can not this receive, 

Can not understand ! 
In the Master's pierced side, 
Where the spear-thrust entered wide, 
In those palms once crucified, 

I must thrust my hand ! 



XV. 

Shades of the evening grew on, while forth to a 

neighboring village, 
Two of our company went, to seek for the absent 

Salome, 
And as in their talk by the way they communed 

with each other and wondered, 
A pilgrim they passed on the road, a wayfarer, 

mantled and hooded. 
Who, joining their steps toward the town, thus 

spoke with a tone of emotion : 

26 



THE VOICE OF ST. fOHN. 



XVI. 

** Wherefore this saddened gaze, 
And why this gloom when all around is bright? 
Walks trouble a companion with you on life's ways, 

Silent and dark as night ? " 

Then Clopas quick replied, 
" Art thou a stranger in Jerusalem, 
And know' St thou not that Jesus Christ hath died ? 

Would'st thou our grief condemn 

" When we had trusted all 
Our hidden hopes to this, the Son of man. 
The last of all the prophets ; and the pall 

Grows thick o'er every plan? 

" And certain women brave, 
Have thrilled our spirits by the news they bring 
From Joseph's garden, for they say the grave 

Contains not anything — 

" And angels guard the place. 
Moreover, 'tis the third day, and we know 
27 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

He whom we trusted, told us face to face, 
Our faith to sight would grow. 

" And yet we see Him not. 
And fears come in and rob our rising breath. 
On earth there does not seem one favored spot 

Untenanted by death." 

Then the wayfarer said : 
" O fools and slow of heart to take in hand 
All that the prophets and the seers of old 

Have told you : understand 

The purpose of the Lord." 
And then, with earnest look and kindling eye, 
The stranger, from the visions of God's Word, 

Showed them why Christ must die ! 

Then on the shady road 
Which skirts the entrance to Emmaus' slope, 
Reaching, by sunset's hour, their plain abode. 

Aroused with kindling hope. 

They pressed their guest to stay. 
" Abide with us, for it is drawing late, 
And shadows fall," they said, " across the way : 

Pass not our humble gate." 



THE VOICE OF ST JOHN. 

I 

'Twas eve ; and yet 'twas dawn ! 
Quick as a flash while we were breaking bread 
We saw the living face we thought was dead, 

And Christ was gone I 



XVII. 

'Twas night and the city was still. The paschal 

moon had arisen, 
Silvering the turrets and walls of the castles and 

fortresses grim, 
Light on the temple shone and the shadows were 

growing tall ; 
In the evening watch could be heard the clatter 

of horses' hoofs, 
As down the pavement of stones some lordly Sen- 
ator, late 
To the feast of his Roman friends, in his lumbering 

chariot was driven. 
The cry of the owl so shrill, as he perched in the 

cedars old, 

Or the call of some vender of wares, lost in the 

driver's noise, 

29 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

As he hurried his mules along, broke in on the 

stillness of night. 
'Tvvas then in a secret room the eleven disciples 

were found, 
With others to whom the reports had been brought 

from the empty grave, 
While wonder and doubt like the tide ruled their 

spirits by turns. 
Into this upper room suddenly entered the brothers 
Who from Emmaus had come, crowning their 

hopes with the tidings: 
" Jesus is risen indeed ! Simon hath seen Him 

alive ! " 

'Twas then, while with rapture we stood, scanning 
the faces of friends. 

To find that assurance of hope, hidden away in 
our breasts, 

Right in the midst of the group, ere we could know 
what it meant, 

Jesus with glory appeared : Jesus, the same and 
yet changed. 

Changed, yet our Jesus of old, breathing out bless- 
ings on each, 

30 



THE VOICE OF ST. JOHN. 

"Peace to your spirits," He said Why need 

I tell you the rest? 
'Tis the food and the drink of the soul ' Soon I 

shall see Him again ; 
Soon on His bosom recline, as once at the passover 

feast 
To me it was given to feel the heart-beats of Him 

who has gone ! 



XVIII. 

Thus I've told again the story 
Of the Resurrection morn, 

How, from out the clouds of darkness, 
Hope for man from God was born. 

Hold this faith, then, do not falter, 
Bear the trials of your life, 

Peace comes after struggle ; after 
Death, there comes eternal life. 

Little children, keep from idols; 
Heed my falit-mg words to-day. 
3» 



THE VOICE OF ST. JO UN, 

This is God, the only true One- 
This is life, the only way. 

God is true, and all things show it. 

Let your lives your trueness prove 
Can you doubt on Easter morning, 

God is light and God is love ? 



32 



TOLD AMONG THE HILLS. 



33 



HELP FROM THE HILLS. 

' I WILL LIFT UP MINE EYES UNTO THE HILLS FROM 
WHENCE COMETH MY HELP ! " 

P to the Hills of God's eternal keeping, 



H 



Which round us rise with ever wooded 
domes, 

Our spirits struggle: from our mountain homes 
We gather in the vintage and the reaping 

Of inward quiet in the troubled soul, 
Of peace and rest, and freedom from the toil 

Of feverish warfare 'mid the endless roll 
Of crowded cities built on barren soil. 

Here midst these hoary hills a calm descends 
On simple living. Each new opening scene 

Brings work and rest, while nature gently blends 
The winter's storm with summer skies serene. 

And all the consecrated household joys 

We gather in as children do their toys. 

From Greylock's summit to the burnished sheen 
Which gilds Onota's placid bosom fair, 
How many a path, like an enchanted stair, 

Leads to the heart of Nature : like a queen 

35 



HELP FROM THE HILLS. 

Hidden in trackless maze her spirit dwells 
And throbs though leafy grove and silent glen. 

A conscious joy and sense of presence wells 
Eternally amid these shades, and when 

The tired truant seeks the mother's arms, 
Worn with the grimy dust of stubborn strife, 

At every turn in wood and dell, the charms 
Of Thy restoring self, Thou Fount of Life, 

The wayward nature feeleth, and it thrills 

The yielding soul with strength from out these 
Hills. 

At times the parable is manifest; with open page 

We read the lesson found within our reach. 

It is not difficult to learn cr teach ; 
And while men wonder, while the heathen rage, 

We see the pictured truth lie close at hand ; 
Help cometh from the Hills. This much is 
clear ; 

This much at least 'tis ours to understand ; 
And he who wills to win must never fear 

Above himself to live ; his eager heart 
Must heed those primal voices manifold 

Which upward call him ; if the better part 

Of life he chooses, let his spirit bold 
36 



HELP FROM THE HILLS. 

Dare to chain down the self-asserting brute 
Which hides in man and makes his music mute. 

O life ! O time ! O struggling soul of man, 
Life, time, are in thy hands ; dare to be brave, 
Dare to be godlike, and divinely crave 

That which is God's in God's own chosen plan, 
Whereby, among the saved hereafter, thou, 

With willing feet and soul forever free 

From stain or sin, among the saints may bow 

In grateful praise to Him who fashioned thee 
In His own likeness. Neither stock nor stone, 

Nor force nor power in nature, can outlast 

The spark of God within thee. Round yon 
throne 

His children stand ; and when the archangel's 
blast 
Shall rend the face of nature with decay, 
Thou shalt live on in ever opening day ! 



37 



MEMORIAL DAY — THE MEANING OF 
THE SOLDIER'S MONUMENT. 

"That this may be a sign among you, that when your children ask 
their fathers in time to come, saying, what mean ye oy these stones ? 

" Then ye shall answer them ; these stones shall be for a memorial 
unto the children of Israel forever ! " — Joshua iv. 6-7. 

I. 

TILL his place our soldier keeps, 
Still the wife, the mother, weeps ; 

Still our hands the garlands bring, 
Still with captive harps we sing. 

To the city of the dead. 
Still our willing feet are led. 

Time, the test of Love and Truth, 
Ever guards the heart of Youth. 

Tell us true, O Sentinel, 

Canst thou answer, " All is well ? " 

Here midst nature's smile and frown. 
Thou dost guard our favored town. 

38 



MEANING OF THE SOLDIER'S MONUMENT. 

Towards the west thy face is turned, 
Speak— the lesson thou hast learned ! 

Past thy pedestal the throng 
Daily move their way along, 

Image of our buried dead — 

Thou dost halt where they have led. 

Tell us true, O Sentinel, 

Is thy answer, " All is well ? " 

II. 

Follow the dead. 'Tis better far to die 
With faith and courage than to live for greed. 
'Tis life, not stolen hours, which counts on high, 
'Tis life to follow where God's voice doth lead. 

Follow the dead. There is no joy like faith, 
No cheer like action — no true hope like this. 
Follow the dead. The gates of life through death, 
Have opened on the fields of heavenly bliss. 

Follow the dead. The motives of their life 
Shall give them precedence in realms of day ; 
39 



MEANING OF THE SOLDJER'S MONUMENT. 

Firm with a purpose, out of earthly strife 
Their souls are journeying on their heavenward 
way. 

Enter the path. God's loving hand 
Leads all His sons. He gives them of His power 
Whene'er He calls them. Nothing can withstand 
The strength which holds them in the dying hour. 

Forget thyself! The worldling's hoarded gains 
Lead to destruction. Gird thyself, be strong ; 
Endure, believe, strive on, these human pains 
Shall issue in the Seraph's burst of song ! 

Only believe. Believe through doubt and fear ; 
Heed thy soul's instincts. Hear the voices call 
Thy erring soul. Behold life's vision here 
And yield to God, He will not let thee fall. 

Choose your reward ! The creature's joy is thine, 
If for mere gain you yield your fluttering heart ; 
Choose your reward ! A joy and power divine 
Are his who chooseth well the better part! 

Comrades, farewell ! Your work on earth is done ; 

Rest in the holy calm of God on high ; 

Ye in the path of life the palm have won. 

And ye shall live since ye have dared to die ! 
40 



POLLICE VERSO. 

[J^md at the Reunion of the Class of '65, University of 
Pennsyh'ania. ] 

[In the gladiatorial contests in the Coliseum at Rome, 
it was the custom for the successful combatant before kill- 
ing his vanquished foe to allow him to appeal for mercy 
to the vast populace. If the spectators desired the van- 
quished to live, they showed their mercy by presenting 
upturned thumbs ; if they desired him to be killed, they 
signified their wish by reversed or downward turned 
thumbs, as is shown in Gerome's famous picture. Hence 
the expression " Pollice Verso " or "Thumbs reversed " 
came to have the meaning of " Complete the conquest ! " 
or "Finish the fight ! "] 



I. 

WITHIN the Coliseum's walls, 
With strained and wearied eyes, 
A motley crowd from Roman halls 
Shout as the vanquished dies. 

Upon his couch with languid look, 

The empurpled Caesar lay — 
Scarce conscious as his ease he took. 

Of evening's lengthening ray. 
41 



POLLICE VERSO. 

With hollow eyes and haggard mien, 

The Roman matrons stood, 
With gaze intent upon the scene 

Of strife, and pain, and blood. 

On that hard-matted, brutal floor, 

The dying swordsman lay ; 
In vain, their mercy to implore, 

His beckoning hand made way. 

The noise and din — the shouts of strife, 

The groans of dying men ; 
Passed like the light and clouds of life 

Athwart some caverned glen. 

With foot upon his foeman's breast, 

The lucky winner stands ; 
Awaiting the supreme behest 

Of countless down-turned hands. 

" Pollice Verso ! " is the cry. 

O'er the arena heard. 
The signal that the vanquished die ! — 

He dies — without a word ! 



42 



POLLICE VERSO. 



II. 



If life is strife till life be past 
For souls who own a Father's hand, 
How well that we should rest at last, 
If life is strife. 

We struggle on from morn till noon 
And wonder when our feet shall stand 
In regions bright with holier life. 

When the last blow on self is cast. 
When the last sword-thrust, whose command 
Has ruled our latest will is past — 
Then ends the strife. 

III. 

Pleasure and Profit can give no peace. 
They whisper in silence, " Cease, oh, cease 
This long-drawn strife — Lo, the scars increase ! " 

Howe'er it be, that we feel the night, 
Growing dark o'er a field where once there was 
light. 

Let us heed this motto — " Finish the fight." 
43 



POLLICE VERSO. 

Oh ! ye who have struggled and won at last, 
Bind now your forms to the upright mast 
Like Ulysses of old, till the sirens are past. 

Oh, children of yesterday — men of to-day ! 
There are heads which were black, that now are 

gray, 
Lines on our faces which seem to say — 

" This struggle for life — is it worth it all ? 
This fight for God — it is growing small ; 
This sense of Right — shall it go to the wall ? " 

But Duty, the daughter of Faith and of God, 
Shows to us each that thorny road 
Leading to Peace — which the Master trod. 

Brothers and men, let us read aright 

All that this symbol speaks in light, 

Let us heed the signal and " Finish the fight ! " 

Not pleasure alone with her empty smile, 
Crafty and coy, and surcharged with guile 
Can serve the nature God leads the while. 

When pleasure in manhood rears his head ; 
As we stand with the living and bury the dead, 

Let this motto of old once more be said : 
44 



POLLICE VERSO. 

" PoUice Verso," finish the fight, 
Complete the conquest — ere it be night, 
Die with the armor on — Die in your might. 

When the bait of reward, or the greed of gain 
Leaves on the virgin soul a stain. 
Listen once more to this old refrain : 

" PoUice Verso " — round out thy life — 

Carry the standard into the strife, 

For better for worse, as with man and wife. 

There is joy in service, redeeming its pain, 
There is health and hope and truest gain 
When the nature its highest doth attain. 

IV. 

We know not what that life shall be, 
What regions yet unknown are there, 
What knowledge we shall one day see — 
What glory bear ! 

But into life so sure, so free — 
Beyond the beating of the sea. 
The soul its armor-chain must wear 
45 



POLLICE VERSO. 

The symbol of our strife ; when we 
Rise high above our mood's despair, 
And we shall gain the victory — 
In upper air. 

V. 

Oh ! sons of men ! my lay forgive 
If pitched too high it seem — 

The rest of life we each must live, 
We cannot play or dream. 

Our past is gone for good or ill. 
Our present yet remains ; 

The future lies within the will 
Of him who reaps his gains. 

Gone be the lower springs of life, 
Gone be the cringing bow 

Of mind to things, Oh, end the strife ! 
Complete the conquest now ! 

" Pollice Verso " be our cry ! 

Press down the hand till death ! 

Better to struggle and to die, 

Than draw llie craven's breath ! 
46 



THE LEGEND OF ALL-SOULS-DAY. 

THIS is Francesco's tomb ; the flowers you see 
Are brought each day by loving hands un- 
known 
And placed upon this rocky sepulchre. 
'Tis twenty years since Old Francesco died. 
It seems but yesterday. The people here 
Can ne'er forget him. Every house had some 
One dead, like Egypt's plague, and, whether shriven 
Or dead in sins, the soul departed, dear 
To father, mother, wife or husband's heart. 
Was covered by the breath of holy prayer. 
" 'Tis all poor man can do," Francesco said ; 
" Come, let us follow dying ones with prayer." 

How do we know 

But the mercy of Heaven 
Reaches to souls 

Whom we call unforgiven .' 
Who can forbid us 

To follow our dead 
With a prayer to our Father 

That the lost may be led ? 
47 



THE LEGEND OF ALL-SOULS-DA Y. 

Who shall forbid us 

Humanity's part? 
Who shall restrain 

The bold leap of the heart, 
As we pray for our loved ones, 

Ask the Father to keep, 
In His mercy, the feet 

Of His lost, wand' ring sheep ? 

Such was his daily prayer. Amid yon grove 

That skirts the vine-dressed hill, the Cluny monks 

Oft gathered, as the sun went down ; and there 

Brotiicr Francesco prayed, with hope inspired. 

For all the dead. Great faith in prayer had he. 

But I must tell you why we keep the day 

For All Souls. This Francesco, man of God, 

Went as a pilgrim to the Holy Land. 

The tomb of Christ he visited, and paid 

To the Most High his vows. Returning thence, 

He fain betook him to Mount Etna's side ; 

For in a cavern, it was said, what time 

The mountain thundered and poured out its fire. 

The cursings and the cries of all the damned 

*T was possible for men of faith to hear, — 

God's recompense for all their trust in Him. 

48 



THE LEGEND OF ALL-SOULS-DA Y. 

Here, at the mouth of Hell, Francesco paused, 

Impatient for the slumbering fires to give 

The sign when spirits doomed might groan their 

hate 
And rage against the sovereign laws of God. 
For in the belching flames and throes which shook 
The sturdy island's base and mountain side, 
The cries of all the damned were lost in wild 
Confusion. Here Francesco waited. Oft 
In the hot noon, or when the moonbeams shed 
Their peaceful influence on that rocky mount, 
The holy brother, 'mid the jeers and cries 
Of peasants smeared with grape-juice, at their toil 
Amid the vines, the sport of children and 
Of all the wagging crowd, yet undisturbed 
Pursued his purpose, faltering not. Him in 
The cleft, at midnight prayer, the whirlwind found, 
The lava spoke in myriad hissing tongues. 
The mountain trembled, and the flames shot forth 
Like curling vipers on the stony crest 
Of fiery Etna. Sheltered, unappalled, 
Francesco, in the stormy war of all 
The elements, heard whisperings — Devils lost, 
Cursing the Cluny monks. Their prayers, they said, 
Snatched many a soul from Fate and lowest Hell. 
49 



THE LEGEND OF ALL-SOULS-DA Y. 

E'en God Himself, they muttered, yielded to 
Such rescuing faith. Then listening undismayed, 
The father heard them chant this impious song. 
In their wild wrath : 

Curse these men of Faith ! 

Faith does more than gold. 
Curse their holy breath, 

Winning souls untold ! 

Thunder in the air 

Clears the murky sky. 
Breath of living prayer 

Brings the Father nigh ! 

When the world was ours, 
When the world was dead, 

Faith awoke new powers, 
Faith new light has shed ! 

Curse these men of Faith ! 

Prayer is not in vain ! 
Men of Faith can dare 

Save lost worlds again ! 

Curse these men of Faith ! 

Faith does more than gold, 
50 



THE LEGEND OF ALL-SOULS-DA Y. 

Conquers Hell and Death, 
Never waxes cold ! 



More there is not to tell ; 

Methinks the rest is known to all the world. 
Odilo, Abbot of this place, has kept 
The day forever sacred when the monk 
Within the cavern heard the devils rave. 
And called it then "77/^ Feast of all the Souls." 
Then the Pope blessed the day. The rest you 
know. 



51 



REASSURANCE. 

" And this is the victory that overcometh the world, even out 
faith." — I John v. 4. 

JS there a victory then 
Over our doubts and our fears ? 
Is there a passage for men 

Out of this valley of tears ? 
For men who are weary and worn, 

Broken, desponding, and sad ? 
Is there Christ's smile for earth's scorn. 
Making the sorrowful glad ? 

Is there a joy for our trust, 

A hope and assurance of peace ? 

Is there a time when our doubts 

And temptations forever shall cease ? 

Is there a morning of light ? 
A Sabbath of quiet and rest ? 

When the end of the journey is reached, 

And the crown of rejoicing possessed? 
52 



REASSURANCE. 

Yes ! For at last we shall find 

The Way, and the Truth, and the Life, 
In our Lord, as the end of our search, 

In Christ, as the goal of the strife. 
Doubt, and temptation, and sin. 

And the struggles we wage while we roam; 
Will be hushed, in the past, and life's din 

Be forgotten when resting at home. 

So there's a victory then 

Over our doubts and our fears ; 
Faith shall forever give way 

To the knowledge which cometh with years 
A knowledge of hope changed to sight, 

Of trust to fruition made plain ; 
A life where the will and the power 

To love as Christ loveth shall reign. 



53 



THE MIRAGE. 

"IT DOTH NOT YET APPEAR WHAT WE SHALL B«." 

" Splendor ! Immensity ! Rapture ! Grand words, great things : a 
little definite happiness would be more to the purpose." — Madame db 
Gasparin. 

-^ N the mood of suspense I ask, can it be true, 
3 All this faith which we cling to and trust in 
With courage and joy? Shall I tremblingly rue 
In the future unknown, this strong certainty 
Steadying my hopes here on earth ? For I am so 

small, 
In the^weep of God's planets; so tired and lone, 
In the rush of the torrents of souls ! Amid all 
That I know not, nor care for, nor trust in, shall I, 
Still myself as I am, press in at the door 
That moves open at death and admits me to 
Splendor, immensity, rapture, — and more 
Than my mind can conceive of? But shall this 
Be I, this new, wonderful creature ? Methinks I 

had rather 

54 



THE MIRAGE. 

Be less of the marvel, effulgent in rainbows of bliss_ 
And more of the man, who in heaven could gather 
His human ones round Him and live without sin^ 

as He was ! 
For how can I love these great powers and angels, 
And all the unloved ones who surge out and in 
From the worlds that I never have dreamed of? 

God, is it thus ? Shall I lose myself there 

In the sroul-dust of lives which are numberless, 

depths 
Which I never can enter ? My Father, Oh ! where 
Shall I rest myself, wearied and staggered 
With all this sublimity ? O God, is there not by 
Thy throne, in which center the lines of 
Creation's far-reaching expanse, the form and the 

eye 
Of the human one, tinging eternity's colorless blank 
With the blood drops of time, and making in space 
Unsubstantial and airy with cloud-fleece, a firm 
And unchanging reality, where I can place 
My poor wandering feet close by His feet ! Yea, 

ray God, 

1 shall see Thee through Christ ! I shall cling to 

tbac Hand 

55 



THE MIRAGE. 

Which was pierced for my sins, and though awed 
By the shining of infinite light, still my soul 
Shall be knit to the human in Jesus ! I shall stand 
Where the sinning men saved stand : the roll 
Of the worlds ever moving around me : the flight 
Of the thronging attendants of spirits, the life of 
Eternity dreaded, unknown, shall awake to my 

sight. 
As the feverish dreams turn to joy when the suf- 
ferer turns to the light. 



56 



AMONG THE HILLS. 

'* /'^OME to me, oh my child," my mother 

^i^ saith. 

As resting in the spear-grass of the bluff, 
I seek new comfortings, and with her breath 

Fanning my cheek, feel this is joy enough. 

** Come to me from the toil, the care, the strife; 

Come from the false faith to the ever true; 
Look not behind thee at thy empty life, — 

Come seek thy mother's blessing ever new. 

" Wherefore this haste and toil, this carking care, 
Why all this restless hurry, fret and pain ? 

The grave awaits thy quickened speed, and where, 
So well as here, canst thou thy soul regain ? 

" Forget, my child, the standards of the hour ; 

Forget the paltry hoards and gains of men ; 
Lay down the rod of fickle Fashion's power, 

Come to thy mother's arms, my child, again ! " 
57 



AMONG THE HILLS. 

" Yes, mother dear, thy truant turns to thee, 
To thee comes back the prodigal of yore ; 

Fooled, snared and blinded I thy face would see — 
Would be the mother's innocent once more. 

" Calm me, O Spirit of the Meadow's God ! 

Breathe through my soul the peace that comes 
to thee, 
Fold me within thine arms, and let the sod, 

The sky, the mountains, give their calm to me." 



58 



THE MESSAGE OF THE PULPIT. 

" I have a message from God unto thee." — Judges iv. 20. 

S^l/OD has a word for thee, 
My child, whose grasp on God is strong and sure, 
Keep thou thy childhood spotless, fresh and pure ! 

This is God's word for thee. 

God has a word for thee, 
My boy, just entering on the joys of youth. 
Be not deceived — there is no guide like Truth ! 

This is God's word for thee. 

God has a word for thee. 
My brother man, in the hot field of strife, 
Lay hold, not on existence, but on life ! 

This is God's word for thee. 

God has a word for thee. 
My sister, queen o'er many a fluttering heart, 
Gifts perish, graces wither — choose that part 

That shall not fall from thee. 
59 



THE MESSAGE OF THE PULPIT. 

God has a word for thee, 
My father, standing at the gates of Death, 
Be not afraid — Heaven's own immortal breath 

Is waiting there for thee. 

God has a word for thee, 
O happy soul ! exultant as the lark. 
Rejoice! Rejoice! but midst thy pleasures — Hark! 

When God would speak to thee. 

God has a word for thee, 
O mourning soul, torn by thy sorrow sore, 
A day will come when thou shalt mourn no more. 

This is God's word for thee. 

God has a word for thee. 
Thou fallen world, on God's own pivots hung, 
Thou fallen world, out on God's confines flung, 

This is God's word for thee — 

God speaketh to His world, 

God dwells with man, in man's own fallen home ; 

God wills it that we shall no longer roam 

Out from His presence hurled. 
60 



THE MESSAGE OF THE PULPIT. 

This is God's word to man. 
The Son of God is here, Oh, be not dumb ! 
The Spirit and the Bride are calling, ** Come! " 

God dwelleth now with man. 



6l 



THE IDLE HARP. 

' As for our harps, we hanged them upon the willows." 



I 



HAVE no time for Thee, 
Harp of my bright and lithesome boyhood's ways, 
Care, work and duty now consume my days, 
I have no time for Thee ! 

I have no need of Thee : 
A captive in the chains of daily toil — 
Song comes not as the fruit of hard-reaped soil — 

I have no need of Thee ! 

I have no soul for Thee : 
Hang Thou upon the willow's bending arm ; 
A silent harp can do the world no harm, 

I have no soul for Thee ! 

I have no skill for Thee : 

The captive bird can never raise the songs 

Of joy which to his freedom's hour belongs, 

I have no skill for Thee ! 
62 



THE IDLE HARP. 

I have no place for Thee : 
The minstrel's note sounds harsh o'er fields of 

strife : 
'Tis work and toil, not song, which makes our life: 

I have no place for Thee ! 

But I may come to Thee, 
Thou Idle Harp, neglected and unstrung ; 
Thou Idle Harp, upon the willows hung, 

Perchance I'll come to Thee, 

And Thou shalt speak again, 
Thy notes forgotten, and Thy chords once more 
Shall soothe my spirit as in days of yore, 

Yes, Thou shalt speak again ! 

Rest till the coming morn ! 
As spoke great Memnon's statue when the breath 
Awoke its strains, so from Thy seeming death 

New voices shall be born ! 



63 



WON AND WIDOWED. 

[In a village in Switzerland, a young guide on his way 
back from his wedding, met a party of tourists who were 
looking for a guide to explore a glacier. The young 
bridegroom left his bride at the chalet door as they re- 
turned from the church, and went as he was in his gay, 
peasant wedding clothes, the bride promising to keep a 
light in his window until he should return. 

The guide fell through a ravine, upon a glacier bed, 
and was lost. 

The widowed wife true to her vows, having learned that 
in the course of fifty years, the glacier would emerge from 
the ravine, waited all these years, and after watching at 
the mouth of the ravine, at last discovered her lost hus- 
band frozen in the ice, fifty years after his wedding-day. 
She, an old woman, looked once again on the marble face 
of her youthful husband, and conducted his body to the 
village church, where the funeral service was held, fifty 
years after the wedding-day]. 



SAID Margaret : " At last he is mine, 
Cold on his glacier-bed — 
My husband has come to these arms, 

My Ernest has come to the light, 

04 



WON AND WIDOWED. 

Out from the robber ravine 
Which snatched my darling away, 
While I in this death-watch of years, 
The flickering taper have burned 
In the chalet window each night, 
Waiting in vain tor a step 
Never again to be heard, 
Looking in vain for a face 
Never again to be seen, 
Until now. Oh ! the strife of these years 
He so young and so fair — • 
Clad in his gay Tyrolese ; 
Silent and cold on his bed — 
I so haggard and old — 
Wrecked, and thwarted, and cursed 
In the throw of my chance for life, 
Maddened and torn from my love, 
Ere the breath of his kiss was cold, 
As he touched my trembling lips 
At the chancel-rail — while the priest. 
Hid by the incense smoke, 
Knelt at the altar step. 
Have met — at the jaws of this cave, 
Spanning a widowed life — 
Hiding a buried love ! 
65 



WON AND IVIDO WED. 

** One more kiss on that marble face, 
One look more at the darling boy, 
He is mine ; rob me not of my right : 
For this moment my heart has beat on 
The goal of my living — is this. 
While others have hated, and loved, 
Have squandered, and striven, and toiled, 
Have begotten, have buried, have wed, 
Noiselessly I have lived on — 
With the slowness of Fate I have moved. 
Towards this day, while the glacier-bed 
Has slowly moved onward to me ! 

" Oh ! loved soul, in what world 
Are hidden the thoughts of thy love, 
Those heart-throbs pent-up for thy wife 
Widowed and weary for thee ? 
By what stream, by what meadow of bliss 
Shall our love, rudely rent by the storm. 
The snowdrift has piled in our path. 
Be woven to oneness again — 
Be made to the pattern of yore ? 

" Lead on, up the rugged defile. 

Towards the church on the grassy slope^ 
66 



WON AND WIDOWED. 

Where man and wife we came down, 

When the call for a guide he heard. 

Gray-haired matron, alone 

Following the love of her youth, 

Mourner and dead we return ! 

'Tis but yesterday seen in my dreams, 

'Tis eternity lived by a child, 

Orphaned, and stricken, and sad. 

Ready to die any hour — 

But waiting to see once again 

The face of my lover of old. 

To whom my young soul had been given ! ' 



67 



THE SPHYNX. 

#^H, Time! How strange thou art ! 
^^^ Thou hoary-headed king, with ages gray 
How thou dost trifle with each hopeful heart 
In wanton play ! 

Oh, thou imperious lord ; 

Thy sway is boundless, and thy stem com- 
mand : 
Each gordian knot is cut as with a sword 
From thy great hand ! 

The cradle and the tomb 

By thee are joined in life — a year, a day ; 
'Tis when the flowers of earth are in their bloom 
That they decay. 

Speak, wintry Time : — Oh ! why 

Should life be chained by iron links to death ; 
Why should the new-born child begin to die 
With his first breath ? 
68 



THE SPHYNX. 

The pyramids declare 

The truth that life is short, and art is long ; 
Where are the hands that reared them, where, oh 
where 

That countless throng ? 

High o'er the buried dead, 

Like mountain walls that echo with the strife ; 
We hear the solemn, never-ending tread 
Of death and life ! 

The Roman hero's arch, 

The ruined domes and columns, so sublime, 
Point, like the fabled causeway, to the march 
Of giant Time ! 

Oh ! what a mockery this ! 

There was an Eden once, but at the gate 
Despair stood waiting side by side with bliss; 
And still they wait ! 

Tell me, ye sentinels — why 

Must man with his proud hopes be crushed for 
ever ? 
Why from unfinished matter do ye try 
The mind to sever ? 
69 



THE SPHYNX. 

The answer comes not now : 

The silent stars above — the eddying sand, 
Move round some law — to which all creatures bo\^ 
And nature sliows her hand — 

Remorseless, ruling all, 

A Sphynx upon her lasting granite throne : 
Yet voices speak within — and spirits call 
Souls whom the spirits own. 



70 



THE ISLAND LIFE. 

" He that kecpeth thee will not slumber." 

V^N island in the sea of space, 
We walk upon the shifting shore; 
We hear the ocean's ceaseless roar, 

And see its waves our steps deface. 

We hurry on — we soon are gone ; 
We scan the undiscovered main — 
That ocean all unknown — in vain, 

While still the tide is hurrying on ! 

We are but in our school-days here, 
With faculties all dwarfed and blunted, 
Our highest growth of reason stunted, 

When midway in its proud career. 

A half a century is man's, 
A thousand years is Nature's time ; 
Which in this strange, uneven clime 

Is needed to complete their plans! 
7i 



THE ISLAND LIFE, 

But when immortal we shall rise, 
To study from the Master's hand, 
And with the angels understand 

What now is hidden from our eyes — 

'Twill be an ever-growing bliss 
To watch the planets on their way, 
With suns and systems, and to say : 
*' Far back on earth I knew of this ! " 

The tablets of our memory 
Will shine like plates of burnished steel ; 
What now is lost, they will reveal, 

And what we know not, we shall see ! 

Yes, we on earth can fit the mind 
For higher pleasures yet to come — 
When through the worlds of space we roam, 
• And ever-hidden wonders find. 

Thus God has said, " Let there be light" ; 

And what in earth's dark caves was made 

The sooty carbon, has obeyed 

His voice, and is the diamond bright. 
72 



THE ISLAND LIFE. 

Light — light is breaking out, and lo ! 
The problem now is solved ; for death, 
That darkened cloud, as with one breath, 

Is scattered ! — and the rest, we know ! 

Then, courage for the field of strife ! 
The trumpet's call to arms we hear, 
Arouse ! awake ! oh, never fear 

The conflict and the din of lile I 



73 



CREED AND HOPE. 

1 ORD, when, oh when shall we begin to see 
■^ Each particle of jangled, warring truth - 
Forever lost and reconciled in Thee ? 

Is not the other life perpetual youth 
With mind unfolding, always sunned upon 

By Him who lighted every sense even here ? 
Oh ! wilt Thou not shine ever on, and on, 

Till in our littleness we're brought so near 
Thy free life-giving self, that every shell 

Shall burst its bands and cerements and fly out 
Into Thy infinite sea-room where no spell 

Palsied with death shall seize upon the doubt 
Of him who would believe and know ! Oh, free 

Our wearied minds, dear Lord, at last in Thee. 



74 



CHRISTMAS CAROL. 

1 ONG ago, in solemn midnight, 
■^ Shepherds watched upon the plain 
When a band of holy angels 

Sang the earliest Christmas strain. 

Chorus. 
Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! 
Glory be to God on high ! 

Gently flowed the silent waters 

In the stillness of the night, 
And the glittering stars in heaven 

Shone with pure and silvery light. 

Chorus. 

Heaven is opened, all its glory 

Bursts across the eastern sky, 
For the harmony of seraphs 

Tells that Christ, the Lord, is nigh. 

Chorus. 

75 



CHRISTMAS CAROL. 

Now the golden gates are open, 
Enter ye, who love the Lord ; 

For the Saviour's love hath triumphed, 
As He promised in His Word. 

Chorus. 

Join the angels in their chorus, 
Praise the Lord, who came to die; 

Praises, in the highest, praises; 
Glory be to God on high ! 

Chorus* 



76 



CHRISTMAS CAROL. 



w. 



HO is this in Bethlehem's town, 
Brings the holy angels down — 
Shepherds too, and wise men bow, 
Son of God, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 

In the temple, who is He, 
Aged Simeon longs to see? 
Happy saint, he pays his vow, 
Son of God, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 

Who is He in yonder cot. 
Bending to His toilesome lot. 
Veiled in flesh we know Thee now, 
Son of man, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 

Sing we then with heart and voice, 
While the sons of men rejoice. 
While heaven's glory crowns Thy brow, 
Son of God, 'tis Thou ! 'tis Thou ! 

77 



CHRISTMAS CAROL. 

Hail the Saviour, praise Him then, 
Heaven's own richest gift to men, 
Son of God — of man, 'tis Thou 
We would ever praise as now. 



78 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELE- 
MACHUS. 



79 



NOTE. 



THE abolition of the gladiatorial shows at 
Rome, against which Christian teachers had 
long inveighed and pleaded in vain, is referred to 

the reign of Honorius (a.d. 395-423) 

When the Emperor, after the victory of Pollentia, 
was celebrating a triumph with games of this kind, 
Telemachus, an Eastern monk, who had made a 
journey to Rome for the purpose of protesting 
against them, leaped into the arena and attempted 
to separate the combatants, but was stoned to 
death by the spectators, who were enraged at this 
interference with their amusement. The Emperor 
acknowledged that such a death deserved the hon- 
ors of martyrdom, and, with the willing acquies- 
cence of his people, whose fury had soon given 
way to repentance, he abolished the inhuman 
spectacles. — Robertson s History of the Christian 
Churchy Book III. Chap. I. 
81 



ST. TELEMACHUS 



ARGUMENT. 

TELEMACHUS, an Asiatic monk, hearing of 
the cruelty of the gladiatorial games in the 
Coliseum at Rome, starts from his home in the 
East to utter his protest against these inhuman 
exhibitions. He meets with an Egyptian sooth- 
sayer and a fire-worshipping prophet, who, together 
with a Christian priest, urge him against the rash- 
ness of such an act. Undismayed by their words, 
he travels on, over Syrian plains and the region of 
Asia Minor, until he comes in sight of the city on 
the Seven Hills. As he wanders along the Appian 
Way, the shouts of the thousands in the Coliseum 
greet his ears. Entering within the doors and 
beholding the combat of the gladiators, he throws 
himself between them, and in the name of God 
protests, in the presence of the Emperor Honoriu? , 
83 



ST. TELEMACHUS. 

against these barbarous games. The saint is 
stricken down by the soldiers — and dies upon the 
sod of the amphitheatre- 

The Emperor Honorius, however, was so im- 
pressed by the apparition of the saint and his sac- 
rifice, that he issued an order forbidding any fur- 
ther exhibitions, and from that day the gladiatorial 
games ceased in Rome. 



84 



DRAMATIS PERSONiE. 

St. Telemachus — An Asiatic Monk. 
Egyptian Priest. 

Fire-Worshipper — A Prophet of Zoroaster. 
Christian Priest. 

Roman Gladiators. 

Chorus of Roman Christians. 



85 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 
I. 

EGYPTIAN PRIEST. 



RAND but rash is thy vow — 



^' 



Futile and vain is thy prayer, 
For the rulers of Rome to the masses bow, 
And thy hope will fade in despair. 

2. 

For the ages move on, and on, 

In the ruts of the days that have been, 

Like the Sphinx upon whom the sun hath shone, 
And the rain and the storm have seen. 

3- 

Yet man can drudge, and can dream, 
Can hope, and can struggle, and pray — 

But the forces of life move down a stream 
That eddies his strivings away. 
87 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

4- 
'Tis all but a dream, we know — 

The faith and the visions of men, 

Osiris moves on like Orion's bow, 

And Isis fades out from our ken. 

5. 
We priests of the people are vain. 

And feed on the empty air ; 
But the crowds must believe, and belief is gain- 

And the gods are made by prayer. 

6. 

Then turn from thy foolish aim. 

Call back thy purpose so frail : 
Let thy feet stand firm, respect thy fame, 

And cease thy sorrowful tale ! 

11. 

ST. TELEMACHUS. 
I. 

Oh ! never shall I heed thy words. 

Thou priest of Darkness, Fear and Hate ; 

Thou shepherd of ignoble herds, 
Whose faith is flawed by fickle fate. 
88 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

What matter if I struggle on, 
Before a wilful world alone ? 

My cross I bear, and know the dawn 
Will bring me to the victor's throne. 

3- 

In vain thou temptest me to yield — 
In vain my path with doubts dost fill 

I never will renounce a field 

My Master bids me conquer still. 

4. 

Sustained by faith I pass my days ; 

I glory most where others dread — 
My voice for God in Rome I'll raise 

Between the living and the dead. 

5- 

Sustain me, oh my God ! that I 
A witness for Thy truth may be — 

Calm Thou my soul — nor let me die 
Before Thou hast made use of me ! 
89 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

6. 

Then pensh all thy feeble scorn, 

Thou hireling priest of Egypt's grave — 

And know that faith from God is bom 
In human souls the world to save. 

III. 

PERSIAN FIRE-WORSHIPPER. 
I. 

Cease, rebellious man — 
Nor strive to do God's part in God's own world ! 
From holy heights, for thwarting Nature's plan, 

Were not proud angels hurled? 

2. 

Darkness and light by turn 
Reign in the kingdom of the silent sky ; 
Wilt thou then not the simple lesson learn 

Which daily meets thy eye ? 

3- 

God is our light and sun, 
He shineth on the world that He hath made, 
And yet the light and darkness both are one, 

And God is not dismayed 
90 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

4- 

At that which He hath done : 
He will bring light from darkness in His day ; 
Wherefor should'st thou then undertake to play 

The part of the bright sun ? 

5- 

Oh stay thy restless hand ! 
And leave to God His own events and ways ; 
Strive not with thy frail purpose to withstand, 

Him, whom the angels praise. 

6. 

Turn thou to mortal's work, 
Nor seek to know the Master's will where naught 
Of truth is given : let not thy spirit lurk 

Round God's unwritten thought. 

IV. 

ST. TELEMACHUS. 
I. 

I dare not let my soul sink down 
And hide beneath each starting tear, 

1 dare not crouch at Nature's frown. 
And lose my freedom in my fear. 
91 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 
2. 

God's wheeling stars in space I see ; 

His voice I feel in every breath, 
I bow me to the Deity — 

Whose soul I feel in life and death. 

3- 

I will not screen my wayward soul 
Behind the words and talk of men : 

Unloose my soul, O God ! and roll 
Thy visions on my spirit's ken ! 

4- 

Thy wisdom, and thy sophist's plea 
Will not avail to stop the cry 

God utters, when His children see 
His image rudely doomed to die, 

To make a Roman holiday ! 

Into this blood-stained, cruel den, 
So help me God, I'll force my way, 

If not by life, by dying then. 
92 



THE LEGEND OF SI. TELEMACIJUS. 



CHRISTIAN PRIEST. 
I. • 

Thy faith is grand, 
Telemachus! who can withstand 
Such words as these ? 'Twere well indeed 

If more took heed — 

2. 

To Christ's command. 
Yet zeal like thine, the church would land, 
In wild confusion. We must bend 

Hearts to our end. 

3. 

The age of law 
Rules now, and men perceive with awe, 
That where by miracle God moved, 

His power He proved 

4- 
No more by sign 
And wonder in the field or sky, 
Than now, He shows His presence near 
In souls that hear 
93 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

5- 

His word to-day — 
In llie plain reason of tlie way 
Of daily life. Then cease, dear friend, 

Thy fatal end. 

6. 

Return, return 
To simpler living. Do not burn 
Thy light out, ere it sends a ray 

Christward, 1 pray. 

VI. 

ST. TELEMACHUS. 
I. 

Thrice tempted — torn by men, and tried, 
I turn me from these lower ills. 

And with God's angel by my side 
I look to the Eternal Hills. 

2. 

'Tis futile all — 'tis all in vain — 

Such pleasing words of Sophists wise, 

Serene my soul, in joy or pain, 
Shall rise above their winning lies. 
94 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACIIUS, 

3- 
God is — and He is real to me ; 

His voice has spoken, I believe ; 
I trust Him where I cannot see ; 

He guides, and He cannot deceive. 

4- 
Hereafter it may be that I 

Shall know the meaning of my faith, 
When with victorious ones on high, 

I sing my triumph after death. 

5- 
Then courage for the hour of strife, 

The Master's call 'tis mine to hear ; 
Gird up thy loins, my soul, for life 

Is won by faith and not by fear. 

6. 

I travel on o'er plain and flood, 

O'er mountain snows and stormy seas, 

No power shall hold me back — my blood 

If not my voice shall make for peace. 

95 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 
VII. 

X. 

And the Saint of God moved on, 
Heard the Tempter flee away — 

Saw the westering sun each dawn 
Shine upon a new-born day, 

While his fervent feet kept moving — 
Towards the Tiber, leagues away. 

2. 

Greece he passed, where Plato taught, 
Athens, where St. Paul had stood ; 

Towns and villages were fraught 
With remembered deeds of good ; 

Yet there was no time to linger, 
Even if the martyr would. 

3- 
All was passed of Egypt's day, — 

Asia, Italy, and Greece, — 
Though the cities whispered " stay," 

Though the Tempter murmured "cease," 
Northward towards the dread arena, 
Moved this messenger of peace. 
96 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

4- 
And at last the city shone 

In the sunlight o'er the plain : 
Turrets piled on towers of stone, 

Domes and minarets again, 
Seemed to brighten in the gloaming, 

And a whisper came — " 'Tis vain." 

5. 

But the pressing feet moved on, 
And the earnest will supreme. 

Like a king upon his throne, 
Held aloft the sacred dream 

Till within the Coliseum 

Rose to God the dying scream. 

6. 

And the Saint of God beheld 
Thousands gazing at the strife. 

While the angry butchers felled 
By the sword- thrust, quivering life; 

And one prayer to God he uttered, 
Ere he joined the bitter strife. 



97 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 



VIII 

CHORUS OF GLADIATORS. 

Hail to Thee, Caesar Supreme ! The victors and 

vanquished salute Thee. 
Ruler of monarchs and men, from thy firm and 

inviolate Throne, 
Look down on the dusty arena — behold, ere the 

moment of struggle, 
The shout of the swordsmen released, the dead 

and the dying's last moan. 
For Thee 'tis a moment's surprise 'mid the lan- 
guid employment of living, 
Eve the feast or the play or the dance, breaks in 

on the fetes of the Hall : 
But for us 'tis the business of life, snatched out 

from the pangs of the dying, 
A struggle — a flash of the steel — a sword-thrust — 

a triumph — a fall ! 
Draped for the altar of death, like the bullock led 

on to the slaughter. 
Towards Proserpine's kingdom we move. Then 

shout for the moment of Fate : 
98 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

Let us raise to the skies our last song, ere the sig- 
nal is given for combat, 

Hail to Thee, Caesar Supreme ! — as we stand 
before Pluto's dark gate. 

IX. 

gladiator's song. 

I. 

Ho ! men of flesh, be strong 

To hack and hew and flail ; 
Come to your work with song, 
Nor shirk the bloody trail. 
Your swords unsheathe, 
Prepare to breathe 
The fog of death — nor quail! 

2. 

Forget your happy past. 

Think of your homes no more, 
Wait for the signal's blast, 
Then fasten Pity's door. 
With foe or friend 
Make death your end. 
And fall to rise no more. 
99 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

3. 

See ! yonder waves the sign. 

Hark ! 'tis the trumpet's tone. 
Forth to the bloody line ! 

Ten thousand hearts of stone, 
With eager eye — 
To watcli us die — 
Are calmly looking on ! 

X. 

And the Saint of God rushed in, 
Seized the slayers 'mid the slain: 

" Shame," he cried, " and burning sin ! 
God in judgment comes again ; 

Surely He your sins will visit 
When He com«s on earth to reign." 

2. 

Wild the cries and shouts arose, 
From the multitude within — 

Hands turned down — a sea of foes 
Shrieked their curses 'mid the din ; 

And the haughty Caesar nodded, 
Mighty Ruler cased in sin. 
100 



THE LJiGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

3- 

Quick the black-hued swordsmen turned, 
Towards the saint in snowy white ; 

Swarthy limbed, the wrestlers spurned 
Any rescue from the fight, 

Save the freedom of the victor — 

Conqueror only by his might. 

4- 
Flashed their swords in fiery wrath ; 

Stones they seized — the victim bled ; 
Angry voices in his path, 

Angry footsteps towards him sped. 
In a moment all was over : 

On the sod the saint lay dead. 

5- 
Dead in Rome ! His vision ended. 

Dead in Rome ! His work was done: 
Towards his cross his way he wended ; 

He had died— yet he had won ! 
Never more the sword of slaughter 

Flashed athwart the glancing sun. 

lOI 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

XL 

CHORUS OF CHRISTIANS. 

I. 

Such was the Saint and such his vision clear 
Of Life Eternal seen through life in Time, 

His high ideal held 'mid doubt and fear, 
Tells its own story fashioned into rhyme, 

2. 

Follow the dead ! The motive of his life 
Shall give him precedence in realms of day ; 

Firm with a purpose, out of earthly strife 

His soul is journeying on its heavenward way. 

3- 

Enter the way of God ! His loving hand 

Leads all His saints. He gives them of His 
power 
Whene'er He calls them. Nothing can withstand 
The strength which holds them in the dying hour 

4- 
Leave thou the world ! Its maxims and its gains 

Lead to destruction ! Gird thyself ; be strong ; 
Endure, believe, strive on. These human pains 

Shall issue in the seraph's burst of song. 

I02 



THE LEGEND OF ST. TELEMACHUS. 

5- 

Choose your reward ! The worldling's joy is thine 
If to the world you yield your fluttering heart. 

Choose your reward ! A joy and power divine 
Are his, who chooseth well the better part. 

6. 

Farewell, thou Saint of God ! Thy work is done. 

Rest thou forever in God's light on high. 
Thou in thy Master's name the palm hast won. 

And thou shalt live, since thou hast dared to die. 



103 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARA- 
DISE. 

A VISION ON EASTER EVEN. 

" He ilescciuleil into the place of departed spirits : the third day He 
rose from the dead." — Apostles' Crbbd, 

I. 

THE COMING. 

HE Cometh ! Lo, He cometh ! 
From earth His Spirit flies ; 
The dead Christ laid in Joseph's tomb 

Is nearing Paradise. 
See ! on the far horizon, 

Upborne on angel's wing, 
Ten thousand souls redeemed and saved 
Are crowding round their King! 

He cometh ! Lo, He cometh ! 

The darkness now is passed — 
And we who cried, How long, O Lord, 

Shall see His face at last ; 
104 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARADISE. 

The saint, the sage, the prophet, 

Who saw by faith's pure ray 
This far-off hour of final joy. 

Shall greet their Lord to-day. 

Behold the Bridegroom cometh ! 

Hark to the deafening psalm ! 
With chorus notes, with victor crowns, 

With amaranth and palm. 
The souls redeemed in Paradise 

Are hurrying on their way ; 
Oh ! go ye out to meet Him, 

And greet your Lord to-day. 



II. 



RECITATIVE. 

'Twas Michael, the valiant archangel, servant of 

God for His people, 
Prince of the Host of the Lord, who thus to a 

group in the meadow 
Spoke of this day of deliverance, and told of the 

coming of Jesus, 

105 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARADISE 

Pausing to rest for a space, as he stood by the 

banks of the river, — 
The River of Water of Life, — and pointed the way 

towards the sun-gate, 
Bathed in a golden light, while the purple shades 

of the mountains, 
Touched with its crests of fire, flared beacons of 

welcome and worship. 

Out on the Highway of Peace, which led towards 
the arch of the sun-gate. 

The pathway which spirits redeemed trod as they 
came from Earth's darkness, 

Angels and children and seraphs, with the spirits 
of just men made perfect, 

Flocked round the triumphing Christ, and wel- 
comed Him King in His beauty ; 

Welcomed Him God and yet human. Saviour and 
King of Immortals, 

Brother and Helper of Man, Herald and Son of 
the Father, 

Welcomed Him Hope of the Ages, Seal of the cer- 
tain hereafter. 



io6 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST 10 PARADISE. 

III. 

CHORUS OF ANGELS. 

Thou hast come to Thy kingdom and glory, 

Thy redeemed have been waiting for Thee ; 
We have heard of the terrible story, 

How Thy hands have been nailed to the tree; 
We have heard of Gethsemane's sorrow, 

How an angel supported Thee there, 
And the gloom which our spirits would borrow 

Grows bright by the answer to prayer. 
Thou art welcome, O Saviour of mortals, 

All hail to Thy coming again ! 
Thou hast passed the dark dread of death's portals, 

Thou hast opened Thy kingdom to men. 
The grave could no longer confine Thee, 

For death has been robbed of his power, 
Nor the spirits in Limbo malign Thee, 

For darkness rules not this blest hour. 
Ride on ! while Tliy jjrophets and sages 

Pour out their glad anthems before Thee ; 
Ride on ! while the souls of all ages 

In lowliness bend to adore Thee ; 
107 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARADISE. 

Let the sword of Thy triumph attend Thee: 
Let meekness and righteousness own, 

While legions of angels defend Thee, 
Their King coming back to His throne ! 



IV. 



RECITATIVE. 

Then I saw in my dream, as they passed 
The cleft in the rock where 1 stood, 

Eager that form to behold, 

Scanning its features to see 

Saviour and Master in one, 
Borne home by the angels of God — 
The face of the Saviour of men ! 

From the sighs of the place of a skull, 
From the shadows which creep round the tomb. 
From the doubt and the terror of death. 
From the gloom and the fear of the grave, 
That face, all serene in its light, 
That form, all divine in its power, 
Had burst from the shell of decay, 
Had come to its God and its home. 
As the bead in the moss-covered dell 
1 08 



THE WELCOME OF CHKIST TO PARADISE. 

Breathes, sparkles, ascends, and is gone ; 
As the sun in the cloud-banks of fog 
Shines on through the shades of the mist, 
And in shining mounts up through the gloom. 

As once unto men it was given, 
That face all resplendent with light 
On the mountain of rapture to see. 
While the prophets of law and of fire 
As hostages came to the scene, 
And the voice of the Father was heard ; 
So now in this vision of faith 
The face of the Master I saw. 
Serene, yet transfigured with joy. 
Majestic, yet peaceful, at rest — 
Rejoicing and blessed and calm ! 

While thus on these faces I gazed, 
And dreaded the heart-beats of Time, 
Lest the vision should fade on my sight, 
A group by the wayside I saw — 
The prophets of God, who their song 
To Jesus the Conqueror raised. 



109 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARADISE. 
V. 

CHORUS OF CHRISTIAN PROPHETS. 

In the niches of time we have stood 

Bearing our witness to Thee ; 
We have sealed our belief with our blood, 

Thy face, O our Master, to see ; 
We have spoken, while men in derision 

Have scoffed in a wild despair; 
We have heeded the heavenly vision 

With the spirit of humble prayer ; 
We have answered the voices from heaven, 

God's message we've dared to tell; 
We have scattered that holy leaven 

Which has saved a world from hell. 

God's workmen in travail and sorrow, 

God's miners, who dig for the ore, 
We have lived in the sure to-morrow, 

Our souls have been weary and sore. 
In our hearts was a pure desire, 

In our minds was foreknowledge of death, 
We have handled that sacred fire 

Which has lived with our dying breath. 
no 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARADISE. 

Time was the space for our tears, 

Strength was the gift of life's span, 

Existence a burden of years — 

But our field was the spirit of man. 

And now, in the Autumn's gleaning. 

No longer the spirit grieves, 
For the reaper the sower's meaning 

Learns 'mid the golden sheaves. 
Thy presence, O Christ, adorning, 

Our palms at Thy feet we lay. 
The dew of Thy birth is the morning 

Of everlasting day. 



VI. 



RECITATIVE. 

It was then I heard hurrying feet, and lo! Michael 

my guide stood before me, 
Leading some awe-stricken sages, who halted and 

stood by the wayside. 
Taking the hand of the foremost and leading him 

straightway to Jesus, 
The mailed archangel thus spake, as he screened 

his strong eyes in the sunlight : 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARADISE. 

" These, too, are Thy children, O Master — Thy 
followers, O Christ, in the twilight ; 

Never of Thee have they heard, save the voice 
which has sounded within them ; 

Never Thy face have they seen, save the light 
which doth lighten the human ; 

Never Thy hands have they clasped, save the 
grasp of their souls on the conscience — 

Therefore to them it is given — now, O blest King, 
to behold Thee, 

Bless them, O Jesus, our Master — Thy children 
who own Thee and love Thee. 

Following the light which was in them, never mis- 
led by the darkness." 

VII. 

CHORUS OF HEATHEN SAGES. 

Lord and Master, we are Thine, 
We are human — Thou divine, 
Yet for Thee the soul doth pine. 

In the darkness we have heard 
Voices from Thy Holy Word, 
Thou our spirits' depths hast stirred. 

ZI3 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARADISE. 

Deep must ever call to deep, 
Conscience cannot always sleep, 
We the truth of God would keep. 

In God's image we are made, 
With His lineaments arrayed, 
God within us is obeyed. 

Thou hast spoken to our need, 
Blessed they who have believed — 
Seeing not, yet undeceived. 

Saviour Thou of souls unknown. 
When Thou comest to Thy throne, 
Place us — place us — near Thine own ! 



VIII. 

RECITATIVE. 

But hark ! is it children I hear 
Shouting their carols of joy ? 
'Mid the hosts of God's angels and saints, 
Sages and prophets of old, 
"3 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARADISE 

Their voices break in on my ear, 

The voices of childhood confessed, 

Fresh in their fulness of song, 

Resonant, tender and pure. 

'Tis the utterance of childhood I hear, 

'Tis the voice of the little ones saved, 

Whose angels forever in light 

The face of the Father behold ! 

Then plucking up courage, I said 

To the guide who stood close by my side, 

" The meaning of this would I know, 

What children in glory are these ? " 

And Michael, my leader, replied — 

" 'Tis the welcome to Christ in His power, 

Of those who His passion have shared — 

The martyrs who slain in the night, 

Suffered the sword-thrusts of him 

Who Bethlehem's town filled with woe, 

While Rachel in mourning refused 

That comfort which comes not with yearSj 

As she wept o'er her innocents slain." 



114 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARADISE. 
IX. 

CHORUS OF HOLY INNOCENTS. 

Thou art welcome — oh, how welcome ; 

Thou the world's expectant King: 
Early would we go to greet Thee, 

Early songs of welcome sing. 
To the crowns of Thy rejoicing 

We would add a martyr's gem ; 
We who died that we might save Thee 

On the plains of Bethlehem, 

By the cruel sword of Herod 

Ere we passed life's threshold o'er, 
Like the fragrant early blossom 

Seen and felt but found no more, — 
For a moment in the gloaming 

Living — uttering but a cry, 
We have done our sacred errand — 

Died, that Jesus might not die. 

Others may have lived and suffered, 
Others may have preached Thy word ; 
. Some in kingly state and purple 

May proclaim Thee Christ their Lord ; 
"5 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST TO PARADISE. 

We have lived that we might spare Thee 

To redeem a world from loss ; 
We have died that we might bear Thee 

Fellowship upon Thy cross. 



X. 



CONCLUSION. 

I raised my head for a moment, the organ notes 

were low, 
There were chords which stirred my spirit as I felt 

the steady flow 
Of the thoughts which had overcome me with an 

impulse strong and deep. 
As, kneeling beside the column, I had fallen a 

moment to sleep. 
I had thought of the tomb in the garden, so empty, 

forsaken, and bare : 
I had heard the closing anthem, and had knelt for 

the final prayer : 
It must have been in a moment. Heaven opened 

on my ken. 
For I saw this glimpse of Paradise, ere we chanted 

the last Amen. 

ii6 



THE WELCOME OF CHRIST 'JO PARADISE. 

Out from the holy silence of these forty days of 

prayer 
My feet pressed on with the surging crowd in the 

busy thoroughfare, 
Back to the weary, dreary world, with its cares 

and toils I came. 
But my heart I had left at the altar rail, enshrined 

with the Master's name. 
But never can I forget the glimpse of that life that 

is to be, 
Which came to my soul in that organ strain, while 

I felt what I could not see. 
And through all my life my faith grows strong as I 

come to Easter Even, 
And think of the vision, which God vouchsafed, 

of the welcome of Christ to Heaven. 



117 



THE VISION OF JOHN CALVIN — HE 

FOUND HIS VICTIM, AND WAS 

FORGIVEN. 



AM INCIDENT OF THE GREAT REFORMA- 
TION OF THREE HUNDRED YEARS AGO— 
THE RE VELA TION OR DREAM OF A VEN- 
ERABLE SHAKER. 

" ^ #^0W dark it is ! Is this my just reward ? 
M'W' I who for love of God my careworn life 
Have hazarded, and for the Christian faith 
Through all these carking anxious years have 

fought ? 
Have I not served Thee, O my God, by night 
In prayer, and through the tedious long-drawn day 
In zealous offices : while all the world 
Has turned to error, or in pleasure's paths 
Hast wandered, led by Satan's magic wand, 
And unto evil deeds its hands hath stretched 
The while in prayer my soul has wrestled oft ? 
Behold ! and see, my God, if aught of self 
My soul hath spared ! Much in these troublous 
days 

ii8 



THE VISION OF JOHN CAL VIN. 

My mind hath wrought, and lo ! through many a 

year 
Of pain and suffering, still, for Thee, O God, 
My life's work witnesseth ! Is it not said 
That but for Calvin's Institutes, the faith itself 
Had perished ? Very zealous have I been, 
O Lord of Hosts, for Thee, and now at last 
When in the spirit world my eyes awake, 
'Tis Heaven about me nowhere ! Can it be 
That this is Hell — and I am reprobate ! " 
Thus mourned this stalwart hero of the faith 
Who by Geneva's placid waters walked 
And ruled with iron-rod that Commonwealth 
Nestling by Juras' mountains, where the stern 
Mont Blanc in towering pride her sun-lit head 
Lifts heavenward; 'mid the city's bustling streets 
All did him reverence, as the peaks around 
The snow-crowned monarch cast their glory first 
Upon the massive mountains when the sun 
Sinks daily westward ! Wherefore then this strange 
And solitary exile, far removed 
From Earth, and Heaven, and Hell, from fellow- 
men 
Redeemed and justified, from spirits blest 
119 



THE VISIOX OF JOHN CALVIX. 

And from his God ! While thus the pilgrim mused 
A flying Seraph passed on beating wing — 
And hovering o'er the lonely spirit sang: 

" Listen, Child of Time and Earth ! 
*Tis the morning of thy birth, 
Now thy days on Earth are past 
Thou art come to God at last 
All thy pilgrim hours are ended — 
Into Deity are blended 
Hopes and strivings of the years, 
Doubts and fears and bitter tears 1 
Yet upon thy darkened soul, 
Lo ! the clouds of judgment roll; 
Thou hast served with strength of mind 
God thy Father just and kind. 
Yet this lesson thou must know, 
That if thou would' st Hell forego, 
Love alone can bring thee home 
Where no doubt or fear can come: 
Thou must learn in realms above 
God is mercy — God is love ! " 

Thus spake the angel; and on upraised wing 
Passed on its way, bound outward, as some ship, 



THE VISION OF JOHN CAL VIN. 

The Harbor's lighthouse rounding, moves away, 
Its canvas big with breezes, to tlie deep 
And soon in the abyss is lost ! For these 
God's ministering spirits are, and flames 
Of fire are His angels ! Now they post 
From island world to island, in the vast 
Sequence of planets ! Creature-like they sing 
As once the morning stars rejoiced, while all 
The Sons of God shouted for joy ! 

■ " Alone 
Once more am I ! " exclaimed the exile soul, 
As in the ether blue before his eyes 
The angel vanished. " On Hell's confines drear 
Cast forth from God on this lone point of space 
I linger ! Dark it is ! and chill ! And this 
My crown of merit is ! I whom the elect 
On earth rejoice in ! Calvin's name 'twas said 
Would shine even as the stars forever ! Lamb 
Of God, have mercy ! Mercy on my soul, 
And grant me, I^ord, Thy peace, that I may come 
To Thee my God at last ! " 

'J'his prayer in Heaven 
Was heard ! And lo ! a light celestial dawned, 
And saints and angels on their ujjward way 

12 I 



THE VISION OF JOHN CALVIN. 

Were seen, all thronging toward some central 

point 
In realms as yet invisible. And now 
The outcast spirit strengthened in his will 
Perceived this motion Heavenward. Gladly then 
This concourse, joyous, hymning praises, he 
Joined, and moved outward toward the far-off 

light ! 
Onward the great procession moved and stood 
Before a rim of golden ether (this 
The eternal throne of God omnipotent); 
While from within, angelic songs were heard 
Of souls redeemed and glorified, who sang: 

" Nothing that maketh a lie. 
Nothing that speaketh of hate, 
Nothing of sense or of time 
Entereth into the light ! 
Gone is the vengeance of man. 
Lost are the weapons of scorn. 
Peace and eternal good-will, 
Love as the rule of the life, 
Tenderness, sweetness, and joy. 
These are the things that shall last. 
These shall abide to the end ! " 



THE VISION OF JOHN CAL VI N. 

Then from the inner hosts of spirits bright 
A mailed angel issued, strong and brave, 
Like to King Arthur, as in bronze he stands 
Within the ancient church at Innsbruck, where 
Onward there rolls through Tyrol heights the 

" Inn " 
Toward sunny Italy. Then by the hand 
Gently the suppliant touching, he, in tones 
Of love unutterable, and with voice 
Christ-like, in deep compassion spoke: 

" Dark on thy soul is a stain, it weighs like a pon- 
derous anchor, 

Dragging thee down to the depths, shutting thee 
out from the light ! 

Never can peace be thy guest or the blessing of 
heaven thy portion 

Till in some far distant world falls from thy spirit 
this blot. 

Vengeance is mine saith the Lord, I will repay 
saith the Master. 

Judgment and crudest scorn thou on thy broth- 
er hast paid ! 

Thou to the heated tribunal an innocent mortal 

has summoned, 

123 



THE VISION OF JOHN CAL VIN. 

Thou with the faggot and chain the life of a 

brother hast robbed. 
Thousands looked on at the sight, and scholars 

were glad to applaud thee, 
When by the clear placid lake the flames of thy 

victim rose high. 
The blood-drops of Michael Servetus, the pain 

and the horrible anguish 
Call to the Lord of Sabaoth, rise up in judgment 

on thee. 
Never canst thou to the Light, never to love and 

to mercy, 
Venture to come unforgiven, venture the Father 

to see. 
Fly to the uttermost corner, seek the remotest 

star distant, 
Follow the leadings of light — follow and struggle 

and pray. 
Wrestle with space and with distance, never aban- 
don thy purpose. 
Till in some far shining sphere the face of your 

victim you see. 
Fall at his feet interceding — begging forgiveness 

and pity, 

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THE VISION OF JOHN CAL VIN. 

Asking for pardon and love, pleading the cross of 

your Lord. 
I am thy brother and helper — Michael am I, the 

archangel, 
Come ! for thy errand is mine, I for thy pardon 

am sent ! " 

— He ceased 
And on John Calvin's troubled face there fell 
A tear, outside of heaven, an angel's tear 
For this strong soul in prison; long he knelt 
For strength and mercy pleading, ere he rose 
This boundless flight to take, and him to meet 
Whom last amid the faggot's flames he saw. 

Days, weeks, and months, as men count years, 

rolled by. 
While yet these wanderers journeyed ever on, 
Like Dante led by Virgil on their round 
Circuitous through the Inferno. Then, 
Upon a day when angels bright in Heaven 
Sang of God's mercy to the planet Earth 
And of good-will to men, amid a throng 
Of earnest spirits luminous with light 
And deep in works of love for souls condemned, 

"5 



THE VISION OF JOHN CAL VIN. 

The archangel guide exclaimed, " Behold, 'tis he, 
Michael Servetus named; give God the praise ! " 
At this the penitent in tears suffused 
Cried out, as on his willing knees he fell: 
" Forgive me, O my brother ! thou who once 
All out of zeal for God, I to the stake 
Didst sentence ! Not for love of man it was, 
Nor yet for fear of Devil, I this curse 
Upon my darkened soul didst lay, whereby 
Until from Thee forgiveness first is had. 
Forever from the face of God, from Heaven, 
From spirits blest, from saints and men redeemed. 
Yea, from that blessed number called the elect. 
Of which through zeal myself I deemed the chief, 
Am T shut out ! Give ear, O brother man, 
And hear my pleading ! Mercy on thy Judge 
Do thou bestow, for what is bound on Earth 
Is bound in Heaven, and I in error's chain 
Am fast a prisoner ! " 

Then Servetus said, 
" This is the day of blessedness and peace, 
When once the angels sang good-will to men 
And glory in the highest Heaven to God. 
The angels sing it every new-born year 
126 



THE VISION OF JOHN CAL VIN. 

When fields with snow are white, and gladness 

reigns 
On Earth supreme, and children's hearts have men 
And love is crowned as monarch over all. 
The heart of God is wonderful; His love 
Conquers all discords, and His pitying eye 
Sees hope and restoration where mankind 
Views only failure ! Ruins deep by him 
Are changed to new creations, and beyond 
The bounds of law about His creatures' life 
There flows this vast illimitable sea, 
This ocean, this unfathomable deep 
Forever full and flowing ever free ! 
All things to love bow down; in Heaven above 
And on the Earth, and in the Depths beneath, 
And Christmas-morn means Heaven ! 

Therefore I 
Upon this festal day this gift bestow 
Of sympathy in sorrow — as in joy ! 
Mine was the agony of body: thine 
The greater load to bear, the anguish deep 
Of spirit ! Now 'tis past and gone ! 

Behold 
And see ! Thou art forgiven. One are we 
127 



THE VISION OF JOHN CAL VI N. 
In fellowship — 'tis Christmas Day in Heaven ! " 

Then said the Archangel, " Now 'tis well indeed, 
Come let us fly upon our journey home. 
Rejoice ! Rejoice ! Heaven's gates stand open 
wide ! " 

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